


(never) fade away

by monstermash



Series: kiss your knuckles [9]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Sort Of, Trans Male Character, Trans Male V (Cyberpunk 2077)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29499804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monstermash/pseuds/monstermash
Summary: "One last ride."
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand & V, Johnny Silverhand/Male V, Johnny Silverhand/V
Series: kiss your knuckles [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1394260
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	(never) fade away

**Author's Note:**

> based off of the temperance ending, but with a few changes that i felt worked better for my canon v and johnny. so potential spoilers ahead. (this isn't canon to the rest of this series, i was just Feeling emotions and thought "what if there was a third option, where v gives their body to johnny but they actually get a chance for closure with people". didn't put in the part where v gets closure with people though lmao. got too distracted with the potential "grief and horror from feeling the love of your life die and then having to wear their face for the rest of your life")

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone else just absolutely devastated that the "Sleep well, my Prince/Princess" line is cut content? because i am and i think about it A Lot.

The late morning light is practically blinding as it filters in through the only window _not_ cracked and boarded over in this shitty one room apartment in the heart of Pacifica.

Owned and operated by the VDB, but they don't ask questions; not like they'd need to. Could probably tell with just one look at him that something's different, changed.

_(How many second chances has he been gifted by now?)_

With a near silent sigh, he pushes himself up and off the bed, snagging his sunglasses off the table beside it as he makes his way to the bathroom. There's an ache in his back where the mattress springs dug in a little too much, but he got what he paid for. Cheap apartment, cheap mattress. The phone buzzes with a new text that he ignores as soon as he glances at who it's from.

Rogue chewing him out. Again.

_(As if he asked for this. Hell, he fought against it to the very fuckin' end, but V—)_

The mirror's protective layer peels back at his approach.

_(He never could say no to V. Not really. Too much of a soft spot, and that's putting it lightly.)_

"Morning, sweetheart," Johnny says to V's reflection, barely restraining a flinch at the sight, at the sound. Still so damn unused to the sound of V's voice layered over his. Hell, it's still a struggle to move naturally in V's body, fighting against the muscle memory that built up over a lifetime that got snuffed out way too soon.

Throat suddenly tight, Johnny's gaze ducks away from V's to stare at the white knuckled grip he has on the sink, eyes catching on the tattoo there.

_Johnny + V_

Together forever, in the most nightmarish way possible.

_(Fuck... Johnny knows he said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with V, but not like this.)_

Releasing his hold on the sink, Johnny reaches up, touching the bullet necklace before taking it off. "Gotta stop talking to you like this, V. People are gonna think we're nuts."

Thumb tracing over the crumpled ridges of the bullet, a small smile - bitter thing that it is - tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Gotta stop saying _'we',_ too'" Johnny continues, about to make a joke but cuts himself off. There's no one here to laugh anymore.

Not that it was even a good joke anyway, and V would've told him so. He can picture it too; eyes all lit up with laughter, nose scrunched up in that way it does when V is genuinely smiling. Did. Was.

"Should go talk to Steve. Need a ride," Johnny thinks aloud, carefully putting the bullet necklace back on.

Pausing by his bag and the pot of forget-me-nots, he reaches out with the hand that should be chrome and touches pale blue. Tries to smother the feeling of _'something's missing'_ and fails, but there's not a whole lot he can do about that.

\---

They're at the roller coaster, but there's no drunk people trying to figure out how to get the old death trap running this time.

Night City's still reeling from what went down barely even a week ago. Adam Smasher finally dead, Arasaka in even deeper shit, Mikoshi torn apart from the inside out, and here they are on borrowed time that is quickly running out. Has been for the past few days.

"One last ride?" Johnny asks, but it's not even a question really. Not when he already knows the answer. Still leaves him wanting a cigarette though, something to steady him because he is decidedly Not Ready, but there are a lot of things he wants that he's not gonna get.

"One last ride," V answers, one hand reaching for Johnny's, tugging him into the cart after even though it ain't necessary.

Johnny would follow V anywhere.

\---

Fist clenching as anger simmers low in his gut, Johnny doesn't let himself jump the gun, doesn't let himself deck the waste of space that is Steve's dad.

Before, he would've lashed out, all righteous fury and consequences be damned because it would've made himself feel better. But he's not the one who has share a home with this walking-talking trash heap.

Besides, after Johnny gets in Steve's car, he's not coming back here, so starting shit he's not gonna finish really won't help anyone.

\---

Day after they storm the tower, V drives back out to the oil fields with a shovel and a sheet of linen in the trunk.

(There's two blocks of slate back there too, but Johnny doesn't want to think about it.)

Johnny stands vigil while V tries digging, too pale and shaky for Johnny's liking.

"'m fine," V insists. With the way his eyes are narrowed and the set of his jaw, Johnny knows there's no way of changing V's mind unless he's about to keel over.

Silence reigns over them. Not like there's much to say. It's slow going, V having to stop every few minutes to dry heave but for once there's no blood staining his lips and hands. Small mercies for the incoming gut punch. Eventually, V finds what they're looking for, though in all honesty, there ain't much left.

The chrome arm and the bones it's anchored to, his cracked skull, and a few busted ribs.

All that physically remains of a one Robert John Linder, AKA Johnny Silverhand.

Crouching down beside V, Johnny watches as he carefully lifts the bones and chrome from the mud and wraps them in the white linen. When it's done, they sit there for a while, just looking at each other, trying to burn the other's face into their memory. There's a streak of mud on V's cheek that Johnny's reaches out to wipe away only to be met with the dull static buzz of imitated pressure and the mud stays where it is. 

It leaves a bitter taste of regret at the back of his throat, leaves him _wanting_ things he won't get to have with V. Things he can't have.

_(The feeling of V tugging at his hair, pressing his mouth against the curve of V's shoulder, having V be the person he falls asleep with every night and him being the person V wakes up to every morning.)_

V's hand wraps around his wrist, to keep him from pulling away.

_(He finds himself wanting all of that like nothing else, a new hunger that he's sure will gnaw at him for forever and a day.)_

"I know," V whispers like it's a secret, but they don't really have those, not with how they share headspace. "Y'know, Misty says we're like two ships passing in the night."

"Got anymore words of wisdom from her?" Johnny asks dryly, but it's fond.

"Yeah: don't stick your dick in a blender. That one should go without saying, but there was this one time, some guy showed up at Vik's place and—"

Johnny's other hand comes up to cover the other man's mouth. "I love you, but you gotta stop there before _I_ get nightmares."

V blinks at him, eyes comically wide before he shuffles closer with a laugh.

"What?"

"Nothin'," V tells him with a grin on his face that absolutely means _something._ "Just can't believe the first time you tell me you love me is because of the dick blender story."

\---

Something's writhing painfully behind his ribs as their cart slowly climbs the first hill.

_(One last ride.)_

Johnny keeps his eyes on the horizon, where the sky meets the water.

_(One last ride.)_

He's got white knuckled grip on the safety bar so his hands don't shake.

\---

"I like drivin' through here. It's nice," Steve tells him, Time Machine nothing more than a tiny blur in the rear-view.

"You know what, you're right." Johnny focuses on the road before them, taking in Night City for the final time. "It is nice out here."

"Never been out this way?"

"No, I have. Just never noticed." There was always something going on. V going from one job to another, crawling through the grimiest parts of Night City's core. "Never had the time to just sit down and watch... City slipped right through my fingers. Just sped right by. Passed under foot, over head, and I can't say when it happened."

And he can't say he wishes he'd looked at it sooner. With the cards they were dealt, it's no wonder Johnny never really took the time to actually _look._ Can't regret it though, because it was time with V, and he'd give anything to have more of it.

"Gonna write a song about it?" Steve asks, drawing him out of his thoughts. Thoughts that are better left alone.

"Maybe."

Pulling V's necklace out from where it rests beneath his shirt, Johnny can't help but think _'One last ride.'_

"Nice pendant. It looks good on you."

Johnny glances at the kid, a smile on his face despite the bittersweet ache.

"Just a keepsake."

"Oh, uh... belonged to someone important?"

An amused huff escapes him. "Yeah. The love of my life. He was kind of a gonk at times, but then again, so was I."

It's probably the sappiest fucking thing he's ever said, and probably ever will say. But it's the truth. Can feel it right down to the marrow of his bones.

\---

Of course, V knows him well. Too well. Like the back of his scarred hands.

_(One last ride)_

When V reaches out to take his hand, Johnny lets him; can't bring himself to deny V anything, and it's been that way for a long time. Not at the beginning, no. They were both too angry, too stubborn, too at each other's throats during those first couple of days.

"Hey," V says, sounding worse than ever, like he'd swallowed gravel. Johnny can't help but look, and if he'd had a heartbeat it would've stopped dead at the sight of all that blood. "I love you."

_(One last ride.)_

The cart tips over the top and they fall.

\---

A hill behind the cemetery is where they end up.

Another shallow grave, because it's all V can handle in this state, but it's not like there's much left of Johnny for the wildlife to dig up anyway. Another shallow grave, but there's a marker this time. A small, simple thing of slate, but it's his.
    
    
    RJL
    
    
    The guy who saved my life.

It's sunset by the time they leave Johnny's grave. V leaves the shovel there and Johnny pushes down the near feral thing that tries to claw its way up and out of his throat at that.

\---

"Tequila," Johnny rasps, voice still sounding like he'd swallowed gravel, as he slumps onto a barstool. "Leave the bottle."

The bartender - Claire, he faintly recalls - does as he says and Johnny does his best to ignore the worried glances she keeps throwing his way. It's concern for V, but V isn't here anymore because he—

"Kid's gone, isn't he?"

And there's Rogue, seemingly out of nowhere.

Johnny just nods. He'd come to at the end of the ride, and screamed. Screamed and screamed, and didn't stop until he could feel V's throat start shredding itself. Horror and unfairness in equal measure.

Too empty. Too quiet.

Johnny's all alone in a space that's meant to be shared.

Losing himself in the bottom of a bottle for a night seems like a good idea.

\---

V pops the trunk of his car and pulls out the reminder that Johnny has been dreading, fearing.

A blank grave marker, made of the same slate as his own.

"I know there won't be anything to bury," V says softly, a rare thing for a place like Night City, "but I'd like it if you'd carve mine."

\---

"Can I come with?"

Johnny looks back over his shoulder, one leg out of the car, to find the kid looking both nervous and determined. Like he's gonna tag along no matter what Johnny says.

"If you want," Johnny concedes with a shrug as he grabs his bag and the potted forget-me-nots.

The cemetery is a dismal lookin' place. Nothing but rows upon rows of concrete columns filled with little niches that cost an arm and a leg. Not like he can really complain about price; Johnny'd paid a pretty enny for these flowers. Made special to grow in any kind of environment, but still.

A name on one of the niches catches his eye. _Jackie Welles_ in sickly blue neon. Part of him wishes he'd brought something for the guy, for V's best friend, but he hadn't thought of it until now.

"Thanks for letting me meet him," Johnny says instead. The words don't feel anywhere near enough, but he doubts that anything else he could say would fill the gap.

"Did you know him?" Steve asks, peering around him to get a look at the niche.

"Not personally." Johnny moves on after another moment, heading further into the cemetery, heading for the back of it. "He was a friend of V's."

"Is V the one who..." the kid trails off, vaguely gesturing to the necklace Johnny's still hiding beneath his shirt.

"Yeah."

They don't talk for the rest of the walk to the back and the hop over the half wall. The hill is just as Johnny and V left it, the shovel still standing tall where it's dug into the earth. Steve takes the potted flowers easily when Johnny hands it to him so he can start digging.

"Who's RJL?"

"Me," Johnny answers, digging until he can find his linen wrapped corpse.

"But you're not dead," Steve says, confusion palpable as the kid looks from the grave marker to Johnny and back again.

"I am," Johnny admits, setting aside the shovel and taking off V's necklace. He looks at it, as if memorizing its shape, every ridge and curve. The bullet that killed V. Technically killed him twice, just took its sweet damn time with the second time. "I'm a dead man walking."

"You're weird." Johnny snorts at that. The kid's been blunt for as long as Johnny's known him, and Johnny finds himself hoping that Night City won't change that about Steve. "But I like you."

"High praise," he quips, a brief lopsided smile on his face as he finally pulls back the linen sheet enough to slip V's necklace inside, wrapping it around the old chrome.

There's a strangled sounding gasp and Steve's staring at the old chrome arm with wide eyes and dawning realization.

"You weren't lying. Back at Time Machine," Steve whispers. Nodding, Johnny moves the linen back where it was, takes the pot of flowers from Steve and starts to fill the hole back up. "But how— why—?"

"Go to Misty's Esoterica down in Watson. Tell 'em Johnny and V sent you." Moving the tiny blue flowers from the pot to the grave dirt is harder than he thought. Hands trembling, a painful ache in the dead center of his chest. With a steadying breath, he sends off a text with the location of the grave to Misty and Vector, then places V's phone on top; a beacon to those who care enough to go looking for V, to find out what happened to him, because Johnny can't find the will to call them all, one by one. "Misty and Vector'll like you. I think V would've liked you too."

Finally, the grave marker in Johnny's bag.

It slots into place next to Johnny's, anchors digging into the earth and interlocking with the matching slate next to it. Two halves of one whole, cut from the same stone.
    
    
    VL
    
    
    Sleep well, my Prince.

"See you in the next life, sweetheart," Johnny promises, thumb brushing over the carved words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> might just be wishful thinking and me being incredibly gay, but i don't think johnny would ever get over v's death. not completely, anyway.


End file.
